A/N. I am grateful to all who reviewed. I figured not everyone would like the explanation but I'm glad most found it acceptable.
I will be trying out something I've never done before and will be relying on your feedback as always. I wrote Hermione's flashbacks in the first person (it's hard!). The past will be in italics (I tried to change the font color but that didn't work). It feels weird reading it but I promised those who did not want to read details of Hermione's experience after the 'break up' an easy way to skip these parts. It's also for those who don't like reading 'pointless' angst.
The first part of the chapter does touch on what happened between Hermione and Gaunt right after Harry 'died'.
Present Harry and Hugo in this one.
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Chapter 39 - The Rude Awakening
12 June 2003 - St. Mungo's Hospital
I'm alive.
I know I am. I can feel the rise and fall of my chest with each breath and I can hear what's happening around me. But there is this lack of desire to wake up. I ache everywhere and it isn't so much the physical pain that has me beaten but an anguish of the kind I never imagined existed.
I'm alive but I wish I wasn't.
I open my eyes and after a few tries they finally do. The first person I see is a familiar red head.
"Hermione!" Ron exclaims, relief in his voice as he turns around and tells someone else the good news, "Mrs. Granger, she's awake!"
My Mum's figure comes into focus, she looks so tired and concerned but the smile she has on her face makes me feel a bit better. More people come at a dizzying pace, people I don't know, people I don't care about replacing the ones I do, all extremely pleased that I am conscious. I don't share their enthusiasm. To be alive and awake is not something I can celebrate about. Harry is dead; our baby is dead; as far as I'm concerned so am I.
Humptail, now Head Auror, is informed by his spies and arrives within minutes. The sensitivity of the case is apparent as he sends the Healers, Ron and my Mum away to debrief me on his own. I get him to tell me what he knows and nod at his version of things until he starts talking about the dead in a disconnected way. My dislike of him surfaces the second he mentions Dean should have known better than to compromise the operation further by coming in close contact with Gaunt.
"It wasn't Dean's fault," I immediately state for the record, "Gaunt got to me. Dean wanted to help. If you need a scapegoat, blame me."
"We're not looking to blame," his annoying voice grates against my self control, "We just want to know what transpired after."
The Head Auror's factual information of what happened in the room with Gaunt, Harry, John, Warren and Burkes ends where Dean loses himself. It seemed there was a malfunction of all Ministry surveillance gadgets around the same time. He wants me to tell him.
"What did Warren say?" I ask and hope that what I think happened to him didn't.
"He was last seen fighting against vampires. He hasn't reported back yet," Humptail states without emotion.
I have to close my eyes, to steady myself. How fair was it that I, the weakest link, would be the one left to tell the tale?
"What happened, Hermione?" he repeats.
He says my name awkwardly, a pretence that he cares, and that makes me angry. I stare at him icily thinking, since when did he start calling me by my first name? I don't answer.
Humptail approaches my bed and talks quietly, to keep the conversation private, "You know about Borgin and Burkes and their disagreements of late. Borgin had a Muggle spy monitor installed at the Jugular, we think to find dirt on his partner so he can muscle him out of their partnership. It showed that Gaunt had all the three Hallows at one point and recorded Harry being hit by a curse that was meant for you. You and Warren were duelling with Gaunt when the vampires came and took Warren away. Where did you and Gaunt go?"
I debate within myself what to tell him, how much to tell him, if to tell him at all. I decide that to get him off my back I have to tell him something.
"Godric's Hollow."
He knows this already. It was where Gaunt was killed and where I lost consciousness.
"We found the wand and the stone with Gaunt," he said, "What happened to the cloak?"
"And here I was thinking you were concerned about me."
I lose patience totally. This debriefing isn't about finding the truth and getting justice for the men and women who died that night. It is about the cursed Hallows.
The sharp retort is effective Humptail is finally back to his old asshole of a self, "Where is the cloak, Granger?"
"I didn't notice it at Godric's Hollow. Wasn't it at the Jugular?" I ask helpfully.
We both know the answer to that.
"No, it wasn't," he replies, measuring my reaction.
I don't care that he doesn't believe me. I couldn't replicate Harry's cloak, its magical properties of invisibility immune to the Geminio spell. And there was no way I was going to leave it with Gaunt for them to find. I took it for Harry, to have it rest with him wherever his final resting place would be. The wand they think is the Elder Wand is the spare I transferred the Deathstick's prior memories to and the stone is the imitation of the original we decided to entice Gaunt with. They have no clue they don't have the real things.
"He must have lost it somewhere," I answer back stoically, with a ready counter for his next question.
"Why did he take you to Godric's Hollow? What's at the church?"
"I was too busy trying to stay alive," I shrug as I reply, "I didn't ask why."
It wasn't so much the church but the cemetery beside it. Gaunt was deranged, the inner workings of his mind too twisted for me to figure out, which was why Warren knew him better. The Dark Wizard lured me there and then hit me with the abortive spell Harry helped me fight off earlier. The excruciating physical pain was nothing compared to knowing I had lost our baby, that I had let happen what I had convinced Harry I would never let happen. To make me suffer further, Gaunt dug a shallow grave beside Ignotus Peverell's tomb, dumped into it what looked like a human fetus and said as he kicked dirt over the hole that as a Peverell my baby should be buried there. He boasted how we screwed up, that he had eyes and ears everywhere and that he had seen the ruse from a mile away.
Gaunt made me choose; to live and fight another day or to fight him then and die doing it. I chose the latter. There was something in me that was raw and angry, an uncontrollable wrath I had never felt before. I wanted to kill him; I wanted it to be me, myself, and I could have with my bare hands. We duelled and I forced him inside the church. He ceased breathing there but the rage did not completely go away.
"How did Gaunt die?"
"I'm sure the wand's priori showed you."
"It's unclear. He was pointing the wand at you but the killing curse he conjured killed him."
"The wand killed him."
She figured there was no harm in making a wand more legendary.
"On its own?"
"On its own. If your pals at the DOM are doing tests on it, you might want to tell them that."
Humptail goes on the offensive, "If I find out you're lying, Granger, there will be hell to pay for. I will summon a full inquiry commencing the moment the Healers clear you."
I ignore his threat; I am already in hell. I tell him I don't mind having the inquiry now. The confrontation makes Humptail red in the face and he finally leaves, taking with him whatever respect I had left for his authority. I resolve I am not working for that man ever.
My Healer takes over and explains to me in detail what happened but I barely listen; my thoughts pre-occupied by the faces and voices of those who died. I catch the part that they don't know why I lost so much blood. I guess they didn't find any trace of my pregnancy and I didn't see any point in solving their conundrum. Then she tells me I've been in a coma for two weeks. Two weeks. Two whole weeks of not being amongst the living. Why the fuck did she leave that minor detail for last?
I decide it's not important to get too excited about. She goes away and more junior Healers and Healer assistants come to poke and prod. Not that I tell anyone but in the idleness of my mind the faces and voices have been replaced by the steady stream of memories from that night, flashing before me like a news reel, factual and impersonal, the dead and their families questioning, demanding...
Who will look after my family?
Is my Mummy coming back?
Why did I die?
Bring me back my son!
Where's our baby?
They go on with no let up. I want them to and I don't want them to at the same time. Ten good souls died that night, each death my fault. I should have listened. I shouldn't have been there.
Where's our baby?
My chest hurts. It feels like its ripping apart, like my heart is being yanked forcibly out of its place. It's beating when it shouldn't...beating when it didn't deserve to.
My regret is I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to Harry. I wanted to go back after I hid the Hallows but the last thing I remember was struggling against a crushing weakness. I pass out in the arms of a priest and then have this bizarre dream about bargaining with Death, exchanging Harry's life for my own. If only that really happened. I crumble into myself and call out to him, wherever he is.
Oh Harry, I never imagined anything could hurt this much.
I don't notice that I am alone again until Ron walks in. He sees I've been crying. He takes my hand in his and tries to cheer me up.
"I just called Ginny," Ron shares.
I imagine how devastated she is as I brush the tears off my face. Focussing on someone else's pain, I find, is much easier than dealing with mine.
"How is she?"
"Worried sick about you," Ron tells her, "She's been here with your Mum for days. She's going to give you hell for choosing to wake up when she's not around."
So his jokes are still lame. I remind myself that he's a friend and he's trying to help.
"Where is she?"
"She's been a wreck so Harry took her away."
My heart stops at the mention of his name
"Har-ry? He's a-alive?"
I barely get that thought out, afraid it was just wishful thinking. Ron is surprised at my shock.
"Didn't that git Humptail tell you?!" he responded angrily, not a fan of the new Head Auror either.
"I just assumed…is he okay?"
I can hardly contain my excitement and Ron tells me about Harry's unique talent with envious amusement.
"AK'd and lives again. He's freaking everybody out although he's suffering from patchy memory loss that Healers supposed it wasn't really an AK that hit him. Anyway, things started up again between him and Ginny," Ron explains in a suggestive tone she wanted to but couldn't ignore, "They've been spending time here and with Dean dead and you and Harry almost dying they've realized how life is too short and too precious to allow petty quarrels..."
In an instant I am torn away from the bliss of knowing he is alive and dumped into the horrifying pit of confusion and despair. I stop listening. The details are too much. Vaguely I hear Ron mention Ginny wearing a certain ring, his Mum's ring, my ring. I finally hear what he said earlier. Harry and Ginny were back together and Harry took Ginny away.
I don't understand. How could he love me and then, all of a sudden, not?! How could he just abandon me as I'm in a coma knowing I had lost our baby?! I can imagine him being angry at me but I don't deserve this! Wasn't his love supposed to be unconditional? Wasn't it supposed to last forever?!
I knew he still cared about Ginny, that was clear but his betrayal is devastating, more so because I never expected it of him. I hear someone wailing incoherently. I realize it is me. And I can't decide which was worse, thinking he was dead or knowing he was a cruel git who no longer wanted to be with me.
The Healers hit me with something to make me sleep. I curse them as they gradually steal my awareness away.
"I just woke up! I don't want to sleep! I want to see him!"
I want to see him...I want to tell him that he is supposed to be with me…I want to tell him that I love him, that we love each…I want to look into his eyes…I want to know why…I want to know…
I calm down, no doubt because of a Healer's spell. As I fight off unconsciousness I hear stupid me say, Harry did not die that night and him alive is good even if he chooses to be with Ginny, right?
I'm so fucking stupid.
Then I remember my dream, that vivid dream that I was certain was just me hoping against hope that he did not die that night. It was beyond sense and beyond logic that someone could bargain with Death. The dream was evidently not real.
But as my heavy lids close the Death in my dream appears before me, haunting me with the deal I made with it.
His life for his memories of you.
No...no...
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16 September 2021 - The Town of Hiwaga in Southeast Asia
It was just past six a.m. The huge Roman Catholic cathedral was half-filled with pious locals attending the dawn mass. At the lectern with an open Bible in his hand was Father Howard, the celebrant. He asked everyone to stand.
"A reading from the Holy Gospel according to John."
Harry stood beside one of the giant pillars by the side entrance completely unapparent under a Disillusionment charm, listening to the priest's monotonous drone, watching half of the crowd as their eyes glazed over with attentive indifference. Two pews from the altar sat Hugo, his two classmates flanking him. He checked on his men; all were in position. His team of trusted Aurors surrounded the three teenagers, Ted was right behind them.
He frowned as Hugo signed himself and knelt like the rest of the congregation did without hesitation. His son passed for someone who had been in attendance a few times. Did his mother raise him Catholic?
Right. He quickly shook off that harebrained thought. Unfamiliar with the rituals of this particular church, he remained vigilant. He had scanned the priest and the altar boys but came up with nothing. The place was huge, with many little nooks and dark corners. Warren could be anywhere; he could be anybody. If he were Warren where would he be?
Surveying the scene once again, his eyes found the elevated balcony in the back where the absent church choir would have been and saw someone just disappear into thin air. Warren was in the building.
Suddenly, about half the crowd, Hugo and the Martinez girl included, stood and began moving up the aisles towards the raised altar, forming a semicircle around the base of the steps as a song played in the background. His men followed the two while Father Howard handed out white, circular, flat bread. A second priest came out and did the same, working on the opposite end of the arc.
The queues were still three rows deep, Hugo right up front now. He seemed fidgety, increasingly more so as the priest who just arrived got closer to him.
Legilimiens specialis!
Images of Hugo and Hermione flowed across his thoughts.
He hissed with urgency on the comm, "Stand dow...!"
But he was too late. One of his Aurors picked up something that was amiss and moved in. Hugo was taken away, then the girl, while half of his men converged on the identified target, forcibly Disapparating him to a secluded place. Only this target was the wrong one. The bastard knew they were there and tampered with the priest's memory.
The assembly sensed a commotion and the service was interrupted. Harry rapidly searched for something out of the picture and found one. Hugo's other friend, the blonde boy, Spencer, was walking towards him, the Auror assigned to physically move him to a safe place slumped in between the pews. Hugo's friend couldn't do magic.
For a moment he thought about grabbing his stealthy son and aborting but he went with his gut. On some level he trusted Warren, he trusted Warren that he would not hurt Hugo.
Harry followed Hugo closely as the boy made his way out of the church, wading against the tide of bodies wanting to go up to the altar to see what was happening. Hugo bumped into a local and Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He barely saw the tip of his son's wand emerge from his pants pocket. Hugo had in a split second transformed into an identical version of the other person when he walked away, appearance, clothes, and all.
His phone vibrated against his chest. That would be Teddy reporting their mistake. He ignored it, wary about Hugo's skills and not testing it. While he had means to track his son down if he lost visual, he'd rather use them only if absolutely necessary.
Harry trailed Hugo through a crowded fresh produce market, still on foot. He knew exactly where he was going. He turned into a minor street and walked towards a row of shops and stores, circled around the back and knocked on one of the entrances, transforming back to his natural appearance as he did.
It opened and a pale local woman immediately gave Hugo a hug, a caring look on her face.
"Hugo."
She said something else in the local language that the translator device he had instantly interpreted as welcoming him back.
"It's good to be back," he heard his son say teary eyed, "Is he here yet?"
The woman nodded and ushered him in. Harry was quick enough to squeeze by the door as it closed.
They were in a restaurant, small, homely and familiar from the picture of Hermione's last birthday. Standing near one of the wooden bamboo tables looking extremely out of place was his old partner, Warren Gates.
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I wake up from another calming spell induced period of time. This seems to be my Healing team's only strategy when I start my hysterics. My behaviour is pathetic and embarrassing and more so because I cannot prevent myself from acting irrationally. They sent the shrink. I told him to get the fuck out of my room. I argued with my Mum and ungratefully drove her to be on the next flight back to Australia. I told Kingsley, the Minister of Magic, that I didn't want to see him. And I am irritated by the littlest things, like the sight of red heads so much so that I told Ron to get out of my sight. That was the fastest I had gotten rid of him ever.
Ginny came by earlier and I couldn't stand her being so happy about everything. She was wearing my ring and my impatience with knowing what happened drove me to making the mistake of reading her mind. Her memories of the past two weeks with Harry flooded me and seeing him happy with her and feeling how happy she was with him was…fuck…I could have cursed her and not felt bad. I would have if I had a wand with me but the Healers knew better than to let me have use of one. And Ginny wasn't dense; my animosity wasn't very hard to miss. She left, scared about what I had become.
They decide I need more sedation. They are clueless about what upsets me. They think it's about Dean. And admittedly maybe it should be about Dean and about all the others who died because of me. Who cares if Harry moved on? Who fucking cares?
I am so angry at myself. I don't want to talk with anyone else. I don't even want to see Harry. I'm crying again. This is so pathetic, I'm crying again…
Someone is holding my hand. Strong and warm. Familiar. It's him. Finally, he came. I realize just now that miss him so much. Pathetic... And I know how painful this was going to be but I need to do it. I need to know.
I still cry the moment I open my eyes and look into his. It's him but it's not. The tenderness I've come to know and expect from them is no longer there…not anymore. He really doesn't remember. He is married now, happily, just yesterday. I saw through Ginny mind his and Ginny's impulsive decision to marry ahead, a more formal ceremony to follow. And I saw that it was borne out of how they felt for each other. I have to shut my eyes tight again but that's not enough to keep the tears from falling.
So what if he doesn't love you anymore…he's alive…he's happy…what else matters?
"Hush, it'll be fine" he tries to comfort me and gives my hand a firm squeeze.
His words hurt.
His touch hurts.
I can't breathe...I can't breathe...
I struggle for air. I am pushing him away but he doesn't let me. I scream in my head.
But you said you loved me! You said it was forever!
He has me in his arms, trying to hold me against him as I do my best to get him off. I am sobbing, not only because of what I know I don't have any more but also in frustration that I'm not strong enough to push him away physically or emotionally.
I can't breathe...
I see the Healers coming and I hear him tell them to back off, that I'd be okay, if they just backed off.
They leave us alone and the quiet calms me down. I stop fighting him. I am in his arms, wrapped in his embrace and I hang on to him tightly. I hang on to this small thread of comfort, a comfort that I know only he can give me. I need him to hold me, I need him to make me feel better, I need him realizing that he's no longer mine to need.
I hear myself talking to him silently, I lost her, Harry. I lost our baby. I should have listened. I'm so sorry...can you ever forgive me?
Then I remember that he won't have to. To him she didn't exist and we never were the way we were. Maybe it's not so bad that he doesn't remember. He won't be so angry. He won't hate me like I hate myself right now. And he'll be so hurt if I tell him. I can't bear the thought of hurting him for nothing. Our baby is dead and nothing can bring her back.
I don't know when I stop crying but after, I tear myself away from his warm affection, lump in my throat and throbbing pain in my chest, I bravely look into his green eyes again.
I love him. Without a doubt I love him. Even if he no longer remembers that he loved me once I still do. Nothing, not even Death, can keep me from loving him. Mine is forever and unconditional and I can't do anything if his isn't. I can't imagine fighting for something that isn't there anymore. I'll be forcing myself on someone who doesn't love me and I'll end up hating myself.
To love him and to have been loved by him is better than not to have been loved by him at all. Not letting go graciously is only going to tarnish what we had.
I decide. Acceptance is better. He's happy and it is better to let go.
I'm fine with this…I'm fine with this…
I tell myself repeatedly as I gaze up at him, pulling back from the closeness of the moment, resolved not to look into his eyes that intimately anymore.
He smiles at me and asks, "Better?"
I nod and answer honestly, "Better."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I can't help the chuckle that escapes from my throat and drives the sharp jab away. I find it amusing that it still hurts a lot and I realize that 'fine' and 'better' are tenuous states of mind.
I shake my head, "No."
He left it at that, at least for a while. It is hard not to wallow with him there and a constant reminder but I figure I must start somewhere. The more daunting task is trying not to break down when I see him with her. That won't be for today and hopefully not for a few days.
Thank goodness we have our work to talk about. We discuss the Hallows, the fake ones, as I flex my brain in the back of my mind to figure out what it all means now that he's still alive. The 'wand' is back in Dumbledore's tomb; the 'stone' back in the DOM vault. Harry is still the last known living master of the wand. The Questers will still find him.
Only maybe, he isn't master of the wand anymore. It is a crazy thought and there is only one way to find out.
Later that night after being certain that I am alone, I call for it, literally.
"Death? Are you - here?"
A black hooded figure emerges from the shadow and in a patronizing voice addresses me, "I wasn't but I am now. You rang?"
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Overwhelmed with relief, Hugo cried as he ran up to Warren.
"I'm so glad I found you!" he said to the wizard who stood up and hugged him and he rattled off his immediate thoughts, "I'm sorry for leading the Aurors to you but I didn't know they had followed me until it was too late and I really had to see you…"
Warren patted his back, "Don't worry about it. The important thing is that you're safe."
But you shouldn't be here.
"No!" Hugo answered the second he read Warren's thoughts, "I don't want to go back! I'm not going back!"
"Your Mum sent you to him for a reason..."
"You can't make me go back to him!"
"He can't but I'm going to have to insist," a cool voice answered and rang from different parts of the room.
Warren was smiling, "Harry, welcome."
Something tugged him hard from behind. Hugo fell to the floor just as Warren drew out his wand and shoot a curse past him. It bounced off mid air at the exact spot where his father appeared out of nothingness.
The Auror said in a disapproving tone, "Your hospitality still sucks."
A flurry of hexes zinged past him that he had to take cover, spells crashing against walls, ceilings and floors, destroying everything in their paths.
"Stop!!!" Grace was screaming, repulsed by the sight of her place being smashed up, "Stop this!"
But neither listened. As far as Hugo could tell neither had hit their target yet. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw Grace, fangs out, and poised to attack. His father saw it too and Hugo reflexively blocked the curse the older wizard fired at her.
"Stay out of this!" his father bellowed at him as a stinging hex made him drop his wand.
"He's only trying to help!" Warren defended him, then charged the same time Grace pounced on the Head Auror.
The ensuing scuffle passed like a blur and was short lived. When the dust settled, his father had Grace immobilized and Warren on his back weapon-less, wand pointed at his chest. They were glaring at each other.
His hand shaking, Hugo raised his wand, aimed it at his father and demanded, "Let them go!"
The Auror flinched but continued to scowl at Warren, as the latter began laughing.
"It must be a bitch to know your son's loyalties don't lie with you," Warren goaded.
"His loyalties lie with his Mum," his father answered accurately, then coldly added, "Hugo, why don't you ask your Uncle Warren where your Mum is and why he wants us to believe she's dead. Because if I do it, I won't be half as nice."
It was a mind game. Hugo knew better that to start questioning the man who stood by his Mum when his father left her to deal with his mess time and time again. He looked at Warren just in time to see the smile on his face disappear as quickly as it formed.
Warren angrily replied in private, a thought that was certainly meant for his father to read.
Go back to London! You're going to get her killed!
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How was the first person thing? Should I quit doing it?